A Staten Island Love Letter- The Forgotten Borough

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A Staten Island Love Letter- The Forgotten Borough Page 9

by Jahquel J.


  “I just hate to see my girl hurting. Plus, ain’t shit out there that needs me right now more than she does. My kids come first.”

  “That’s why you’re a good dad.”

  “How was Poconos? I forgot to ask you because Shakira been having you so busy.”

  Shakira had Marisol moving furniture and donating everything to the Goodwill. She figured out which three rooms she wanted to have done and that’s all she been concerned with. The design company had been sending her a bunch of concepts for the rooms and it was all I had to hear about when I was trying to sleep or get some pussy. Things were still tense between me and her since Belize. Like she loved to push shit under the rug, I did the same shit. I wasn’t bringing the shit up unless she did. Shakira crossed the line when she felt comfortable enough to call my moms and sister out their name in front of me. I gave her ass the reality check that she had been asking for.

  “It was nice to get away. Your cabin there is beautiful. I’m just confused about what we’re doing. We spent time together, had intimate dinners and now that we’re back, he hasn’t called or answered my calls. I’m so confused.”

  “Priest is complicated. Trying to figure him out might cause you to get a headache,” I joked.

  “I’ve wasted too many headaches on him. I’m tired of feeling like I have to force myself into his life. When we met, I knew he was guarded and hard to break down, but damn.” She vented.

  “Give him space, Mari. Allow him to come to you. No man wants a woman who is constantly trying to insert herself when that’s not what he wants right now.”

  “You’re right,” she sighed.

  “He’ll come around. That nigga just need some time to process shit and he has the girls too… give him time.”

  “Thanks, G,” she smiled and headed out the room.

  Marisol had broken the cardinal rule when it came to fucking around. She had fallen in love with Priest and you could tell from the way she lit up when his name was mentioned. She wanted to be with him and take on the responsibility of helping him raise the girls. She was a real ass woman for wanting to do all of that, but Priest was a broken and confused man. At a young age he had to become everything to his three nieces and never got the chance to mourn his sister’s death. Even ten years after she passed, he still hadn’t went to visit her grave site. My mother took the girls, but Priest refused to go. There was a lot he was battling and hadn’t dealt with and Marisol had to know what she was dealing with before trying to take it all on. If he needed space, then that was what she had to give him. When he was ready, he would come around.

  Truth was, I didn’t think Priest was into Marisol the way she was into him. Taking her to Belize further confused her and now he was ghost and didn’t want to be bothered. He should have continued to smash, but when you brought a trip into the situation you further complicated shit, even if that wasn’t his intentions in the first place. Marisol was walking around here like a lost puppy because she couldn’t get in contact with him. I dialed his number and it rang for a bit before he finally answered.

  “What’s good, G?” he answered sounding all chipper and shit.

  “Glad to hear you sound all happy and shit. Why you ignoring Marisol’s calls?” I questioned. It wasn’t my business, but if she ended up bleaching my damn color clothes because she so damn distracted from Priest not answering her phone calls, I was gonna stick my foot in this nigga’s ass.

  “Damn, that’s why you called me? I’m cooling and getting my shit right. How’s Summer?” I think everyone knew how I felt when it came to Summer and her asthma. “How you holding up?”

  “I’m good. She laying right here getting the rest that she needs,” I replied. “I’m trying to spend more time with her and shit… you know doing the daddy shit.”

  “I know Shakira and the girls are excited that you’re home more.”

  I laughed. “Nigga, Shakira been out there more than she been home. She been working on the designs for the rooms she’s redoing.”

  “Damn. Long as Summer is doing good, that’s all that matters. On the real, I know you didn’t just call me to ask me about Marisol’s ass.”

  “I did.”

  “G, when we start getting involved in personal shit? I mean, I haven’t felt like dealing with her. We spent a few days in the Poconos, I think I’m entitled to a little alone time.”

  “We got involved in personal when you became like my second little brother. I hear you though, you do have a point.” As much as I tried to keep it business between me and Priest, I couldn’t. He was like a second little brother. I saw a broken boy who had just lost his older sister and needed someone to guide him. That day he came to me in Stapleton about working for me solidified our brotherhood. That nigga had never steered me wrong and was always a hundred percent loyal.

  “I know I do. The trip to Poconos just confirmed everything for me.”

  “And that is?”

  “I don’t want to be with Marisol. All that I’m interested in is having sex, nothing more. G, usually when I’m on vacations I hate when it has to come to an end. This time, I was counting down the days until we headed back to Staten Island.”

  “Priest, she not that bad. I mean, I don’t think she bad at all.”

  “That’s the thing… she doesn’t want more for herself. Being your housekeeper and caring for the girls is all that she wants to be. We spoke about her going to finish her GED and she shot it down, then we spoke about her maybe starting a business or something and she shot that shit down too. She’s cool with how she lives her life and isn’t trying to elevate.”

  “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

  “That may work for some niggas, just not me. I don’t want my chick being complacent. I want her to elevate, have her own shit and maybe a degree or two.”

  “Nigga, how you asking for shit that you don’t even have? I haven’t seen you go back to school like you promised me all those years ago.”

  “I got bigger shit I’m trying to accomplish. Marisol has two sons who she should be trying to be better for, not content with being your housekeeper.”

  I understood where he was coming from. He wanted his woman to make money moves, but not every woman was built that way. There were some people that preferred to punch a clock than own and operate their own business. Did it make one woman better than the other? No, because it was their choice to work for someone else. In Marisol’s case, she was probably scared to branch out and do her own thing. She probably felt more secure knowing that her check was coming on time. You didn’t get that when you chose to work for yourself. Not everyone had the guts to step out on faith and become their own boss.

  “How do you know she’s not scared?”

  “Yo, she was content with the shit she said. I’ll talk to her again and see if she let that shit simmer, but me and Marisol could never be.”

  “Let it simmer in her spirit,” I laughed out loud. “Just answer the girl’s phone call. How’s the girls?”

  “Love and Kiki are good, but it’s Kiss that I’m worried about. Other than that, they’re good.”

  “She’s seventeen and in high school. Teenagers are moody as fuck, give her space and she’ll come to you.”

  “She’ll come to me? Nah, I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with her.”

  “Let her breathe. We gonna link this week, ight?”

  “Bet. I got some moves to make right now anyway. I’ll link with you,” he told me. We ended the call just as Shakira pranced her ass into the room like she had the best news ever.

  “How’s my little peanut doing?” she kissed me on the lips and rubbed Summer’s head. Even with the small touch on her head, she knew her mother was there without opening her eyes.

  “Mommy come lay with me and daddy,” she mumbled as she got more comfortable in my lap.

  “Not right now, baby doll. Mommy has to take care of some business. I’m trying to give you and Rain the rooms of your dreams.”


  Summer had dozed back off and I shook my head. “What’s good, baby?”

  “The owner of the design company is here. I was able to get our favorite Italian restaurant to deliver and Marisol is preparing it. Come down,” she told me.

  Shakira was known for doing shit like this. Here I was chilling in some sweats, shirt off and sweat socks and here she come talking about having lunch with the owner of the company that’s decorating the girl’s bedroom. I hated when she sprung shit on me like this.

  “That’s your favorite restaurant. They make dry ass pasta and I’m tired of them thinking Oregano is the only seasoning that goes on spaghetti.” She loved going to that expensive ass place and ordering that dry ass pasta. Her aunt’s friend owned the restaurant and it was a hot spot in Staten Island. The restaurant was located in Great Kills and was always packed as fuck.

  “Babe, that’s not what we’re focusing on right now. Go grab something to put on and come downstairs,” she demanded and pranced her way right out the room. “Marisol! Come up here!” she hollered before she fully exited the bedroom.

  I carried Summer over to the bed and kissed her on the cheek before I headed to the bathroom. “G?” I heard Marisol’s call my name.

  I stuck my head out the bathroom. “What’s good?”

  “Oh, I’m taking Summer to her bedroom. Ms. Ricci wants me to stay with her until lunch is done.”

  “Bet. You need me to carry her in there for you?”

  “No, I’ll manage,” she offered me a weak smile and picked up Summer with ease. I watched as she carried her out the room.

  I quickly showered and tossed on some clothes. Since she was making me get dressed, I was going to kick it with Staten when we got finished with this meeting. Shakira’s ass better make it quick too. It was bad enough that I was the nigga shelling out all the money to have the person do their job, now I had to take time out of my day to sit down and discuss the shit too? I sprayed some cologne on and was about to head downstairs when my phone buzzed.

  “Damn, I can’t do shit without someone hitting my jack,” I mumbled as I picked up the phone. “Yo?”

  “Hey Gyson,” I heard Mirror’s voice.

  “What’s good, Mir? You good?” I hadn’t spoke to her since she stormed out my mom’s crib with an attitude.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “I know you didn’t call to hear me breathe into the phone. What’s good?”

  She sighed into the phone. “I was wondering if you would help me get my own place. I love mommy, but I’m grown now and just need my own space.”

  “Help you? Or front you the bread?”

  “Give me the money to lease a condo,” she clarified what she was asking for. Mirror was spoiled and spent all her money shopping and keeping up her appearance. While me and my mother wanted her to go to college, she wanted nothing to do with school. By the grace of God, she graduated high school. The only reason she got her car was because I was tired of her riding around with her bum ass friends.

  “You spoke to mama about it?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m grown and don’t have to run everything by her. Of course, I will talk to her about it, but right now I’m seeing if you’ll do it.”

  I knew Mirror wanted her own place because she was dating. She wanted to be able to bring niggas to her crib and she knew with my moms that shit wasn’t going to fly. I would be a fool to think that Mirror wasn’t messing around with dudes. I didn’t like it, still I had to respect that she was a grown woman and not my twelve-year-old sister anymore. Staten was another case. That nigga didn’t even want her owning a male dog, so seeing her with a dude would have him pissed.

  “I’ll hit my real estate agent up and see what’s on the market. You need to be thinking about going to college or something. You can’t live off my money forever, Mir.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. What do you think Summer and Rain going to do?”

  “They’re going to college.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see,” she giggled. “Please don’t forget to let me know what your real estate agent says. I want a two-bedroom condo or townhouse with two baths and proper parking,” she gave me her requirements. Mirror was throwing around her wants like living on Staten Island was cheap as hell. It didn’t matter if you rented, leased or owned, you were going to spend mad money on a property. It didn’t matter if it was Staten Island or Brooklyn, the shit was still New York and expensive as hell.

  “I hear you,” I told her and ended the call.

  Before I headed downstairs, I popped my head inside the girl’s room and found Summer fast asleep while Marisol pecked away at her phone like her life depended on it. She was so engrossed in her phone that she didn’t notice I had popped my head inside the room. I made my way downstairs and heard laughing coming from the dining room.

  “Ma, where you at?” I hollered. I knew where she was, but I wanted her to come to me so I could try and convince her that she didn’t need me here. When Shakira set her mind on something, she was determined for it to be done her way. If I wasn’t so lazy this morning, I would have been gone by the time she came in demanding shit.

  “I’m in the dining room,” she called out. “Come on.” I sighed and followed her voice to the dining room. “It’s a treat that he’s actually home since he works so much,” she laughed.

  “I can’t stay long because I gotta get up with a busin—” my words were caught in my throat when I laid eyes on her.

  “Baby, this is the owner of Free Home Interiors, Freedom McGurry,” she introduced Freedom to me, and I felt like my heart had just stopped.

  4

  Freedom

  I stood there staring at Ghost as he stared at me. Shakira was so busy standing beside him while rubbing his arm that she didn’t notice the shocked expression on her fiancé’s face. It was as if he was some kind of trophy to her; a symbol that she had landed a good one. Never in a million years did I think that I would run into Ghost. Yes, Staten Island was small, and everyone knew everyone, but I didn’t think I would run into him this quickly.

  His fiancée came up to me in the middle of getting my hair shampooed and went on and on about her home. She said she wanted me to redecorate the entire thing and money wasn’t an option. She was an interior decorator’s dream. A whole house turned into just a couple of rooms, which I didn’t mind. Never did I think this Italian woman with the shape of a black woman was Ghost’s fiancée. I shook off the initial shock and extended my hand out to him with a smile plastered across my face.

  “How are you? You can just call me Free,” I shook his hand. It was as if the touch of his skin jolted my heart and memories of all we had been through together. It took years to get over Ghost, and even when I thought I was over him, I never truly was. You never get over your first love.

  “What’s good, Free? I’m Gyson… call me G,” he smiled.

  “Now that we’re all acquainted, let’s sit and eat.” Shakira giddily clapped her hands and led us over to the table.

  “I told you I don’t want this shit, Kira,” he told her as he took a seat at the head of the table. “What you got for us?” he stared at me. Not like a regular stare… Like he was trying to read me or something. Ghost had always been good with reading people, and years later didn’t make a difference.

  “I put some things together on my iPad for you both to preview.” I pulled out my iPad and swiped through some options I had for the girls. “Shakira showed me your daughters…. They’re gorgeous,” I complimented.

  “Appreciate it. You’re married?” he pointed to the ten-carat rock that sat on my ring finger. Nodding, I smiled.

  “No. It’s more of a promise ring to myself,” I replied. I had gifted myself this ring last year on my birthday. I was tired of waiting on a man to put a ring on my finger, so I decided to put one there myself. I promised that I would never lose myself trying to be everything for a man – again. “For the third room, I was unsure of wha
t you wanted. You never told me what the third room would be, so it’s like a blank canvas right now.”

  “Well, I was thinking of a revamped closet. The closet I currently have is the one that came with the home,” Shakira quickly spoke up before Ghost could.

  “I was thinking of a little boy’s room. Shakira will be pregnant within the year with my son, so we want to prep early.” He stared right into my eyes as the words left his lips.

  “Which one is it? I’m going to need you both to be on the same page. Trust, it makes the process way easier and less expensive,” I informed them.

  Shakira looked like she wasn’t trying to hear anything that Ghost had to say. A baby was the last thing on her mind, meanwhile he was ready and willing to impregnate her right here and now. Ghost had always spoke about his first kid being a son. I didn’t doubt that he loved his daughters, but I knew he truly wanted a son.

  “I’m not getting pregnant. I just got my body done and let’s not forget to mention I was pregnant with two babies back to back,” Shakira protested.

  “Rain is five and Summer is four. Stop using that shit as an excuse,” he replied. “Look, do what she wants. Don’t be mad when I have my son with someone else,” he added and stood up and left the room.

  I was shocked that he would say something like that to his fiancée. Then again, I wasn’t. When Ghost didn’t get his way, he was a terrible person to be around. Shakira was embarrassed and trying to mentally figure out a way to make this sound good to me.

  “He’s such a prude when he wakes up,” she tried to brush it off. “We’re going to go ahead with the closet renovation,” she told me.

  I jotted it down in my planner and closed it. “Okay. Thank you for the meeting and I’ll get my team established and then I’ll let you know when we would like to start.”

  “Okay.” She smiled. “I know your office is located back in Atlanta. Why are you in small ass Staten Island?”

 

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